Page 7 of Thick & Thin

When was she going to realize she wasn’t one of the guys?

Sure, she could play alongside us, but the fact was she was still a girl.

Smooth skin.

Delicate beneath her tough exterior.

And so fucking tempting it made me feel sick.

She would kill me if I ever said it out loud, but Jenny was all woman, even if she wanted to play with the big boys.

I held my breath as she climbed the steep rock-covered hill up to the road. They paused on the side of the asphalt as a group of cars flew past them before continuing to the bridge that went over the river. Once they were standing on the edge, JJ reached out and put his hand on her back. I held my breath and swore if he pushed her, I would kill him, then I got angry all over again when I realized he was smiling and rubbing her back soothingly.

I didn’t like his hands on her.

As a matter of fact, I fucking hated it.

So, when she reached out and pushed his arm away, relief filled my chest.

It was around freshmen year when I started noticing things about Jenny. Her boobs were the first thing. At first, it was weird. There were no more chest bumps or titty twisters. We stopped making jokes about the girls at school and their boobs. Although, once Jenny grew them, I stopped noticing the breasts of the girls at school altogether, yet I had a hard time keeping my eyes away from her chest. My focus went to shit. Whether I was playing a football game on the field or we were together kicking some ass on my PlayStation, I would catch myself checking her out.

It was also around that time I began to warn the guys to stay away. I had too much going on around me with school and the farm and football to worry about them sniffing around her like a bunch of dogs. The last thing I wanted to worry about were my friends chasing after my best friend, and that was what she was.

My best friend.

Even with my brain packed with memories of our lives over the years, I could no longer deny that my feelings for Jenny had grown into something different.

Something wild.

Something so fierce it scared me.

Jenny was different from the rest. She wasn’t the princess type who wore makeup and fussed over her hair. Half the time, she wore men’s shirts. Her style consisted of cutoffs and T-shirts, but in the South, that was a yearlong wardrobe. Most of the time, those clothes had dirt on them or grease from the garage, but something about a girl who wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty was attractive.

She could handle the guys and knew how to put us in our place. She was adventurous and brave. She was funny with a filthy mouth. She could change a tire with her eyes closed, thanks to her dad and Devin, who were motorheads. And on occasion, when she would drink, she had no problem whatsoever drinking every one of us under the table.

When the other girls were too afraid to jump from the rope swing at St. John’s River, Jenny was the first to jump on. With her eyes closed and her ponytail swishing in the wind, she would smile until the rope was high enough to let go and fly.

The other girls would stand on the shore too worried about how they looked in their bikinis and re-applying lip gloss as though they were at the club instead of a dirty river. Not my Jenny. She went to the river to have fun, splashing around with the guys in a sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of sweat shorts that left a ton to the imagination.

Finally, her and the guys reached the edge of the bridge. The fall had never seemed so far away. I had jumped off the side a few times, and I wouldn’t lie, it was a long way down. Jenny waved down at me, wearing a huge smile on her face.

My heart paused for a beat as JJ and our buddy Robbie jumped first. I prayed she wouldn’t do it, but I knew better. Jenny wasn’t one to back down. I swallowed hard, trying to control my nerves as she stepped closer to the edge, her toes dangling over the side.

Then she jumped.

She was falling feet first into the river, her long body looking like an arrow shot into the darkness of the water. Her arms were at her sides, her eyes closed, and her face toward the sky. Her ponytail flew above her, swishing in the wind from the fall.

She hit the river in a great explosion of water, and I sucked in a breath that I held until she broke the surface. It wasn’t until the crowd around me exploded in joy that I realized how silent the moment had been for me. They cheered her on as if she hadn’t put herself in danger, but not me. I was beyond pissed.

Instead of cheering, I ran to the water, swimming out to her without thinking about what it made me look like. Once I made it to her, I reached out for her arm, angry and ready to get her back to my truck so I could take her home, but she tugged her arm away from me, laughing with everyone else.

I swam behind her, ready to implode once we were safely on land, but when we made it to the shore and she came out of the water, she was missing her shorts. Every thought I had about exploding on her for putting herself in danger was swept from my brain as my neurons misfired.

A long time ago, I once saw Jenny in her undies. At the time, she was flat-chested, sporting a training bra and a pair of panties with cartoon characters on them.

Not anymore.

There were no more training bras and cartoon characters. There was only silky wet flesh that shined in the blazing sun and perfect curves I wanted to glide my palms over. Her shirt was plastered to her breasts, a bikini top I hadn’t known she was wearing beneath her shirt showing through, and to her stomach, which was flat, enhancing her tiny waist.

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